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but he could remember nothing. He found his thoughts
going back to Mildred every minute, and he repeated to
himself the exact words of the quarrel they had had. He had
to force himself back to his book. He went out for a walk.
The streets on the South side of the river were dingy enough
on week-days, but there was an energy, a coming and going,
which gave them a sordid vivacity; but on Sundays, with no
shops open, no carts in the roadway, silent and depressed,
they were indescribably dreary. Philip thought that day
would never end. But he was so tired that he slept heavily,
and when Monday came he entered upon life with deter-
mination. Christmas was approaching, and a good many of
the students had gone into the country for the short holi-
day between the two parts of the winter session; but Philip
had refused his uncle’s invitation to go down to Blackstable.
He had given the approaching examination as his excuse,
but in point of fact he had been unwilling to leave London
and Mildred. He had neglected his work so much that now
he had only a fortnight to learn what the curriculum al-
lowed three months for. He set to work seriously. He found
it easier each day not to think of Mildred. He congratulat-
ed himself on his force of character. The pain he suffered
was no longer anguish, but a sort of soreness, like what
one might be expected to feel if one had been thrown off a
horse and, though no bones were broken, were bruised all
over and shaken. Philip found that he was able to observe
with curiosity the condition he had been in during the last
few weeks. He analysed his feelings with interest. He was
a little amused at himself. One thing that struck him was

Of Human Bondage